


Liberty

by TheGraduate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clexa Endgame, Doctor Clarke, F/F, Family, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lexa is a Marine, Pain, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn, Therapy, Twins, finn is a good guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:44:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGraduate/pseuds/TheGraduate
Summary: 8 years ago Lexa Woods returned home from her 2nd USMC tour a changed woman. Unable to adjust to life outside of conflict, she left everyone and everything she loved behind. Now, 7 years later, she's forced to return to a her old life and familiar faces.Clarke Griffin. Doctor. Artist. Daughter. Mother. Friend...Lover. 7 years ago Clarke resigned herself to never seeing Lexa Woods again. She'd moved on.What happens when the person you loved the most but trust the least, is thrust back in to your life?





	Liberty

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this piece over on FF.Net as a Paily fic, which I never finished. So, if anyone has any inclination to call ‘plagiarism’ cool your jets, I am that author. I don’t intend to finish that fic as my love for Paily died with the crappy ending of PLL. Sorry any Emison fans but that’s my opinion and I’m sticking with.
> 
> WARNING: There will be mentions of extreme violence which includes torture, rape and character death. I will do my best to sign-post as best I can but I haven’t posted on AO3 so tagging etc. is all new. Remember that before you go leaving me hostile comments, kindly drop me a DM instead. 
> 
> Another warning: Finnarke is in this fic and to give you plenty of prior-notice, he is a good guy. Shocking I know as we all love to hate Finn, but to drive the narrative forward I think it fits. 
> 
> This work is un’beta’d, therefore mistakes are my own.
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading Liberty.

Pain. Everywhere, pain. Every nerve ending exposed – raw and on fire. Her body felt heavy and beyond exhausted. She’s long since passed trying to reconcile all of horrors that have been done to her. She vaguely recalls feelings of abstract fear, and unbearable and unyielding pain. Anger. Dread. Shame. Loss…she prays that the rest of her unit got out OK. Sometimes the grief is overwhelming; she grieves for her family, and for the love she cannot reach…a love that at one time could’ve have saved her from anything, from anyone. But that was all gone now. She was gone from her. 

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack.

The sharp strike of the whip at her back pulls her back in to consciousness. This makes the second flogging this week. It has been weeks since the last beating, and in the time in between she had been almost been, 'cared' for. The thought of it churns her stomach - she would throw up if she had anything in her stomach left to give. But here, now, in this moment, she is vividly aware of the blood and sweat pouring down her legs, creating a slick pool as it settles and sinks in to the sand at her feet. With every exertion from the man grunting behind her she can feel her lifeforce ebbing away from her. It would all be over soon. 

In the beginning she was so strong. So, determined. She had retreated deep inside herself, into the furthest recesses of her mind. She had taken comfort in her memories and thought of nothing else. But she had broken her. Stripped her bare and exposed her until there was nothing left. There was no dignity in that room. No mercy. No way out. 

Thwack…Thwack…Thwack.

Resolve. This will all be over soon. 

Chocking on the oxygen as it rushes in to her lungs, she shoots up in bed fighting for air. Grasping furiously at her chest, she pulls at the sweat-soaked vest that clings to her body like a second skin. Breaking free from her sodden bed sheets, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and slowly opens her eyes to allow them to adjust to the morning light making its way over the horizon.

Taking a deep breath, she rolls her neck and shoulders in an attempt to loosen the tightness she feels in her chest and back. Resting her palms on her knees, she begins the all too familiar ritual of reminding her body how to breathe – in, and out. Eyes closed. In, and out. In, and out. Flexing her toes, she focuses on the feeling of solid ground beneath her feet, forcing her body to slow down and remember.

Opening her eyes, she’s greeted by her 6-month old German Shepherd, Zeus, looking at her with a lob-sided grin, "I'm OK, boy."

Stripping out of her wet clothes, she grabs some sweats and a clean t-shirt from the drawer before heading into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Zeus, her ever-present shadow following closely at her heels.

Sliding the balcony door of her Connecticut waterfront home open, she steps out into the cool, crisp morning air wrapped in a blanket and grasping the steaming cup of black coffee to her like a lifeline. Running down on to the beach, Zeus jumps in to the surf - barking at the waves as they roll idly on to the sand. Pulling up a chair, she watches as the sun breaks free of the water. Closing her eyes, she pulls in a deep breath enjoys the slight burn of the crisp morning air as it fills her lungs. Glancing back in to the house, she looks at the 3 boxes stacked by the front door. She hadn't realised how little she had kept in storage, how little she actually owned. How much she had given up. 

Throwing on her running gear and beanie, she hits the timer on her watch before descending the stairs to begin her run of the beach. With the sun now over the horizon, she can feel its warmth prickle at her skin as she picks up her pace; Zeus, easily matching his owners steady rhythm, runs alongside her. All too soon she feels the familiar burning sensation and ache deep in tissue and muscle. 

Back at the house, she pulls open the garage door to see the tattered bag waiting for her. Wrapping her hands, she quickly goes to work, circling bag and throwing off light jabs to warm up. She has excellent technique, but so she should. She’s a machine. A well trained, well oiled, machine. Stepping up the pace, a succession of powerful left punches and lethal right hooks meets with exposed canvas; taking every punishing blow, taking everything, she has to give. She extends her powerful legs and obliterates her opponent time and time again. 

Pushing herself away from the bag, she rests her hands on her knees and catches her breath. Looking back at the clock, she still has 15 minutes until she needs to hit the shower. Jumping up, she secures her grasp on the pull-up bar. Crossing her feet at her ankles and taking a deep breath, she hoists herself up before lowering herself back down. Breathe, up. Exhale, down. Breathe, up. Exhale, down. Sweat runs furiously down her body to the floor.

After a hot shower, the sting of overused muscles begins to subside. Looking in the mirror she traces the jagged scar that mars the otherwise perfect skin of her right thigh. Her body is a map of scars; a living, breathing testament just how deadly and fearless she's had to be over the years - from the head-on she narrowly escaped when she was 17, to torn flesh, burns and wounds she'd accumulated during a 16 year career with the US Marine Corps. She had survived. And that was about all you could say when you looked at US Marine Staff Sergeant, Alexandra Woods.

Looking to the side of the mirror she had two options: her service uniform or civvies. It was difficult to know what to wear. On one hand, Sergeant Major Pike had called in a pretty big favour to get her this meeting. She wanted to honour him and the efforts he had made to get her here. On the other hand, that uniform had never felt more alien to her. Where once it had signified honour, family, loyalty…belonging, it now only served as a reminder of all the pain and anger she felt. Looking at it, she felt the weight of her past pressing down on and suffocating her. 

Settling on civvies and her signature all-black look, she quickly pulled on a t-shirt, skinny jeans and Timberlands. Pulling her hair back into braids, she afforded herself one last look in the mirror. It wasn’t ideal – going in to a meeting dressed like she’s going to a bar – but this was it. This was all she had to offer right now.

You can do this.

Heading to the coat rack, she tuggs on her leather jacket, grabs her keys from the bowl and strides out of the house. Zeus is waiting patiently for her in the backyard. Bending down she gives him one last ruffle behind his ears, looking deep in to his chocolate brown eyes. She hadn’t wanted a dog. She hadn’t wanted the responsibility. She’d found him abandoned with the rest of his litter out on a morning run and had every intention of taking the lot of them to the local shelter when a storm had hit and closed most of the roads. His brothers and sisters had stayed away from him that first night, they knew he wasn’t going to make it. But as the hours had trickled by, she had watched the sickly and weakened pup fight for his life. She admired his strength, his resilience, his will to live, and so when the roads reopened late Sunday evening, she took the litter to the local shelter and Zeus to the vet the very next day.

Pulling the tarp from her black Ducati Monster 1200R, she was quick to swing her leg over the bring the beast to life. 

"I won't be long, boy.”

She knows he won’t move from that spot until she returns. He’ll wait there all night if he has to.

Kicking off, she opens up the throttle and roars towards Ocean Avenue and her destination.

A loud and authoritative knock shakes him out of his reverie. Shuffling some papers on his desk and straightening his tie, he’s ready for whatever happens next, "Come in."

The door pushes open to reveal a tall, smiling, brute of a man, "you asked to see me Commander."

"Gus, yes, come on in."

Closing the door behind him, Gus makes his way in to the room. Standing to attention, he cannot help the pride that rises fiercely in chest as he takes in the imposing figure of the highly decorated and distinguished US Coast Guard's Command Master Chief, Jake Griffin.

"Gimme a break Gus, at ease. Have a seat," Jake motions to the chair the other side of the desk. Taking in Gus, he smiles at the familiar and trusted face of one of the highest ranking and brilliant pilots in US CG history, “I hear it was pretty hairy out there last night.”

“Ha, if you count Octavia screaming at your television during the 4th quarter and throwing a drink all over Lincoln and your new couch, then yeah, definitely hairy. Sorry you had to miss it”

“I have no doubt Abby will be presenting her young protégé with a cleaning bill and all available scut work forth with. And in case you have you forgotten in 6 weeks Abby and I will be making our way down to St Petersburg, and you my good man will be here mourning your social life and making your son’s a living hell, no doubt.”

“Don’t go getting too smug on me Jake. Any man brave enough to take his new boat out and charter the exact course of the Bounty is asking for trouble. Don’t think for one minute I’ll he hauling my ass down to West Virginia and beyond to save yours. Abby’s ass however - ” 

“- Hey! You kiss Indra with that mouth?”

“In all seriousness, I am looking forward to the opportunity to sit in that oh-so comfy chair back there. It is real leather, right?”

“If I come back to a Gus shaped ass print in my chair, they’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” 

Gus Woods and Jake Griffin had been best friends for nearly 40 years. They met at Stanford university; Jake was the brilliant, San Fran born and bred, engineer, with a big heart and a warm smile. He could swim the 100m fly in 55 seconds flat and the 400m medley in 4:35.7 on any given day. 

Gus had arrived on a football scholarship, having been accepted from Miami Northwestern. An impressive Linebacker, Gus had torn his ACL in his 2nd year and his football career never recovered. He’d dropped out of Stanford and enlisted the US Naval Academy. After 4 years of training and 5years of service in the Marine Corps, Gus was discharged following his request to join the US CG and never looked back.

After 40 years of friendship, Jake took comfort in the fact that two men of such precision, shared the same adventurous and playful spirit. If Jake Griffin was a shark in the water, Gus Woods was a viper in the skies. 

It was Jake that introduced Gus to his future wife when he insisted he join him that first Christmas on a trip up to Harvard medical to visit his fiancé. That was the night that Gus, Jake, Abby and Indra met, danced, talked and laughed until the sun came up. From that day on, the four of them formed a bond that could never be broken. Or so they thought. 

“What’s going on Jake?”

Leaning back in his chair, Jake looked over at his friend before quickly casting his eyes down at the folder that lay in front of him. Looking to the clock on the wall he watched as the hour hand ticked over. She had 2 minutes. Taking a deep breath, he focused his eyes back on Gus, "I have a decision to make, and for the first time in what must be over 20 years, I find myself at an impasse."

Leaning forward and eyeing the folder, Gus looked at the man fidgeting in front of him. If he knew only one thing about Jake Griffin, it’s that the man doesn’t fidget, "what do we have?"

Outside, a loud screech of tyres breaking could be heard across the academy grounds. Killing the engine, she leapt off the bike and took off runningg; taking stairs two at a time, she lunged through the front doors of the building.

Jake Griffin opened the folder. Lifting the first few pages his eyes skimmed the information in front of him, trying desperately to find the answers he had missed the first 20 times he had read her file, "USMC Staff Sergeant, Alexandra Woods-"

Gus stood and ripped the file out of Jake’s hands, his chair tumbling backwards as his eyes frantically moved across the paper in front of him, “Lexa…”

“Tell me what you’re seeing Gus.”

Gus looked up at his best friend and for the first time in all their years of friendship, he felt his blood boil, "I don’t need to read it. I know what it says, and so do you, ‘Alexandra Woods, born 11th February 1982. Daughter of Nyko and Elena Woods. Both parents deceased – killed in a boating accident in Florida when she was 14 years old. Only survivor. Adopted by her uncle, Gustus Woods…”

Tears, whether formed by anger or grief neither man could say, but both were fighting to gain control of their emotions.

“All-star swim champ at Stanford, full scholarship, like you. Major in engineering, like you. Had the opportunity to go pro, like you…” Gus was pacing furiously now, fighting to gain every modicum of composure he could muster, “enlisted 2004. Served two tours in Afghanistan. Promoted ’05 and ’07. Transferred to Special Command and Alpha unit in ’09. One of the most highly decorated marines in recent history: recipient of the Commendation, and Achievement medals, Silver Star and Purple Heart.’

The silence in the room was palpable. Gus felt like his whole world just shifted course and his best friend, was at the helm, pushing for more than he had to give, "and then you know what happens next…" 

Jake sits back in his seat, interlocking his fingers before resting them against his chest, “Yes, I do. After she recovered-” 

"-After she recovered she went back to…” Reaching again for her file, his eyes scrutinised the page for any detail he might have missed, “...Her file is redacted. There are no details from May 14 to Aug 17. Sept’17 Lexa and her remaining Alpha unit are assigned to Operation Enduring Freedom - a joint task force combating militant Islamism and Piracy in the Horn of Africa."

Jake stands up from his chair and walks to the window and looks out on the academy grounds, watching the cadets in the distance run their drills. A crackle in the sky has him turning around and leaning back against the wall, looking to Gus, who stands frozen next to the forgotten chair in the middle of the room. Neither man can move. 

The shrill ring of Jake’s pulls "Yes? OK, give me a moment will you."

Placing the receiver back down, Jake turns and rests against his desk, looking up to Gus. He doesn’t know whether his best friend, the man who has served with him, saved his life countless times, is ever going to forgive him for this. 

“What are you doing Jake? What is this?”

“Lexa’s…back. She’s here Gus. She’s right outside.”

“I don’t…Lexa would’ve told us, she would’ve -”

“You remember her commanding officer? Sergeant Major Charles Pike? He sent over her file last week along with the following request,” Jake reaches back on his desk and pulls at the handwritten letter that had accompanied Lexa’s file and hands it to Gus. 

Snatching the letter from Jake’s hands he makes quick work of the two short paragraphs before sighing in disbelief, “whha…I don’t understand. She was honourably discharged 7 months ago?”

Nodding his head Jake looks at the torn man in front of him, “Yes. And now, you know as much as I do.”

Catching his breath, and choking on the sudden dryness in his mouth Gus finally allows a solitary tear to escape, “You’ve known about this for a week? And you didn’t think to say anything? This is Lexa. My Lexa…OUR, Lexa.””

“Jesus Gus, do you not think I know that? That I haven’t anguished over this? I know exactly who she is and what she means to this family. But this isn’t the time for anger or recriminations. She is waiting for us outside of that door and you and I have a decision to make. Right now.”

Sat, sticking to the back of the chair in the waiting room of CMC Jake Griffin’s office, Lexa began to wonder what was taking so long. He was keeping her waiting. Lexa knew this tactic all too well, designed to throw new recruits off their game and allow self-doubt to creep in. But this wasn't her first rodeo and she sure as shit wasn't some rookie cadet.

"Lexa Woods, he will see you now." 

Steadying herself, Lexa made her way to the large oak door and met the solid surface with three successive knocks. A loud voice, beckoning her in from the other side, had her guts twisting up as she pushed the door open. Looking to the two men stood to attention in front of her, Lexa took a deep breath and stepped in to the room, closing the door behind her.

“Oh my god, will this day never end.” Harper McIntyre threw herself across the desk at the MRI station. She had been waiting for 40 minutes for the currently MIA Atom Ward, just one of the collectively useless batch of interns at Yale New Haven Hospital, to collect Mrs Kennedy and take her back to her room, “He had better be dead or dying when he turns up. Like, I want to see actual blood.”

Peering up and over her glasses, Clarke Griffin can’t help but laugh at the dramatics of her friend. Patting Harper gently on the head in a ‘there there’ gesture of sympathy, Clarke takes one of the iPads from the dock, adjusting the chart of her most recent post-op patient, “I’m sure Atom will be back any minute to take Mrs Kennedy to…” Clarke’s ministrations on the iPad stop abruptly as she quickly looks between Mrs Kennedy and Harper, “Harp, Mrs Kenney is supposed to be in 305 for an ultrasound on her kidneys not waiting for an MRI on her ankle.” 

Harper stood to attention and snatched the iPad from Clarke’s grasp in utter disbelief. Releasing a loud, elongated groan Harper looks ready to throw the iPad clear across the hallway, “I’m actually going to kill him!” she huffed out as she ran her fingers back through her hair, “Please tell me this shift is nearly over.” 

Clarke looked at her wristwatch before smiling back at her, “20 minutes. 20 minutes, until Octavia and Raven get here and we can…” a loud beeping from her pager stopping her from finishing that sentence, “hold that thought, incoming into the ER.” She was on the move and half way down the corridor before calling back to Harper to page her team and have them meet her in the ambulance bay.

The rain hadn’t let up as Lexa trudged down the steps of the Academy. Her bike was soaking wet through from the torrential downpour New London was currently experiencing. For fucks sake. It was the perfect end to an already shitty afternoon, and had the sobriety chip not dangled mockingly from her keychain, today would’ve been a perfect excuse for a drink. As it was, she once again straddled her motorbike and brought it to life. Feeling eyes on her, she stared back up at what she now knew to be CMC Jake Griffin’s office. She held her stare, not seeing but feeling their eyes on her. Revving the engine several times in frustration, she flipped the visor down on her helmet, and sped off in to the storm.

She wouldn’t normally have taken interstate 95 but the pull to open up her bike and forget everything about her meeting with Jake and her uncle was inescapable. Thinking back to the thick file Gus clutched in his hands, she couldn’t believe he’d just sat there and let Jake...But what did she expect, really. Jesus, she’d forgotten just how imposing a man Jake Griffin could be. He was unwavering in negotiating the terms of her employmentt, and the look on his face...Well, after 2 hours she’d had enough. She didn’t need this, not that badly. 

Up ahead, she could see traffic was slowing. Rush hour, perfect. She knew in that moment she had been selfish – Zeus would be home waiting for her – and although he had the run of the place, hell, he had the run of half the beach – she didn’t like leaving him for long periods of time. Deciding to get off at the next exit and head back she began to slowly weave her way through the cars, speeding up to take advantage of a gap that had opened up ahead. It was then that she felt it, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Looking around furiously there was no one near her – traffic was practically at a standstill. Her attention turned to the northbound highway just in time to see a tanker truck plough over the divider, knocking into the side of a tractor trailer and splitting it wide open, before striking several other cars and tipping on its side.

Screams erupted immediately and people pooled out of their cars to run and help. Lexa flipped the visor up on her helmet to take in the site before her - 3 cars were completely totalled - there was no way anyone would live through that. 

Sensing movement next to her, she snapped out of her reverie and turned to the guy who was talking loudly on his phone, “…I don’t know honey, he must’ve lost control or something. Fucking asshole, I am so fucking late…” He stopped when he a strong hand grip his arm.

“Hang up, call 911,” Lexa barked the order as she moved to the trunk of his car, “is this your car? Can you pop the trunk?”

“No, it’s a rental but hey, what are you doing?” The guy ran around the trunk to just as Lexa opened it.

Finding a high-vis vest, flash light and first aid kit, Lexa grabbed what she could and slammed down the trunk. She started to walk to the scene of the accident as the man ran alongside her, “what’s your name?” 

“Miles. Miles Shaw”

“Miles Shaw, I’m Lexa Woods. I’m going to go and help those people. Why aren't you dialling?"

It took Miles' brain a moment to switch in to gear before he was once again fumbling for his phone.

"tell them we’re going to need a med flight unit. You see that tanker.”

Miles followed Lexa’s outstretched arm to where the tanker was laying on its side, a car trapped between it and the barrier, “of course I see it – it just totalled all those cars and-”

“-that’s a fuel truck, and if that goes there’s going to be a lot more casualties. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Mouth agape, Miles nodded his head at Lexa as she marched towards the scene in front of her.

“Yeah, yeah…got it.” Miles watched as Lexa launched herself over the barrier and sprinted to the scene of the accident and to the first car. She was there barely seconds before she moved on to the next. 

Dead. Fuck! Lexa had made her way to the first two cars only to discover the drivers had been killed on impact. The rain was torrential now and she could barely see back to where she’d left Miles – she hoped he had dialled 911 – not sure what they would find when they arrived. 

Taking off towards the tractor trailer that had been cloven in two, she made her way to the driver’s side. Shining her torch inside, she heaved a sigh of relief – the driver much to her delight was alive and wake, “hey, can you hear me? Hey.” Lexa banged on the door.

The driver blinked a few times and rolled his head. Lexa could see he’d suffered a nasty blow to the head. He was patting the seat next to him, looking for something.

“Hey, sir? Sir, can you hear me?” Lexa banged again. She pulled furiously at the door, feeling the strain in her shoulders before it finally gave way and opened so she could check on the driver.

Rolling his head around to look at Lexa who was already pulling a bandage from the first aid kit to wrap around his head, “Sir, can you tell me your name?”

“Yeah, errr…Henry…my name's, Henry .”

“Henry, I'm Lexa. Nice to meet you. Now, can you tell me where you’re hurt?”

“My dog - have you, have you seen my dog?”

Lexa looked across to where Henry had been grabbing furiously at the passenger seat. There was no sign of a dog. Looking out in to rain, she could see the other half of the trailer and its contents strewn across the highway. If the dog had been in there when the tanker hit, it wasn’t unlikely to still be alive.

Turning her attention back to Henry, Lexa continued to wrap the wound on his head, “I haven’t seen your dog but I’ll find look for it OK, what’s his name?” Securing the bandage on his head, Lexa took her time in assessing the rest of his injuries, starting at his neck and making her way down his arms, chest, pelvis and legs.

“Hhhh… ahhh!” Henry flinches when Lexa presses the compress into the deep gash over his right arm, “Willow. Her name is Willow.”

It was then that Lexa could hear them, the sirens. Help was coming.

“OK Henry, do you hear that – help is on the way.” Henry nods as Lexa searches around the first aid kit for something big enough to use to secure his pelvis. Coming up empty, she looked across back in to the trailer at the clothes dispersed across the floor. Reaching around she grabbed one of the shirts pulling it in to the front, “Henry, you’ve got a fractured pelvis - I’m going to have to wrap it…” Lexa put her hands on either side of Henry’s head, looking him square in the eye as she nodded at him, hoping that he understood. This was going to hurt.

With his pelvis secure and his breathing more even, Lexa looked around at the scene. There was a flurry activity behind her and she knew it would be only minutes now until the EMTs found them. 

A dog barking pulled her attention to tanker. Bending down to Henry, Lexa felt for his pulse – not as strong as she would have liked but she had to check on the other drivers, “Henry, I’ve got some good news. The EMTs are on their way and unless there’s another crazy bitch on this highway, your dog is doing just fine.”

Henry chokes out a laugh and winces at the pain in his lower back, “ahhh, thank God.”

“She’s barking up a storm out there,” Lexa smiles as she covers Henry with a coat to keep him warm. “I need to go check on the tanker and that other car, you stay awake, alright. Won’t be long now and then we’ll get you out of here.”

Nodding through gritted teeth, Lexa squeezes his should in reassurance before making her way back around to the trailer. Leaping over debris she makes quick work of getting to Willow, who was going crazy at the tanker, and when Lexa made it to her she could see why. Damn. The tanker had flipped a Mercedes G63 on to its side and pinned it against the barrier; the windshield was completely shattered, making it impossible to see inside. But she knew that car. It was the same car that had picked her up from the airport all those months ago. Anya. “Anya!”

“h-h-hello? Is somebody there?

Hearing the chocked plea, Lexa runs towards the vehicle skids down on to her knees. After everything they’ve been through. This wasn’t the way she thought they would…

“h-h-hhello?? w-w-who’s out there? Can you help us?”

Silence. The air became still – no sirens, no screams…not the sound of Willow barking as Marcus was taken away by EMTs, not the sound of news and police choppers flying overhead, nor the sound of the rain as it pounded against her skin. 1…2…breathe

“Raven?” Lexa scrambled forward to get a bitter look at the passengers, “Raven, it’s me. It’s…Lexa”

“Lexa?” the woman managed to cough out. 

Lexa shone her light and looked directly at Raven – she could see she had trouble breathing; the air bag hadn’t opened. Blunt force trauma - collapsed lung, broken ribs, internal bleeding, Lexa was running down the list in her head.

“Lexa…I don’t…how are you here?”

“We’ll have time for all that later OK. For now, I want you to keep talking to me, OK. I need you to stay awake.”

Raven Reyes could feel pressure and unbearable shooting pains in her chest, it was all she could do not to pass out. Her leg was trapped and she couldn’t seem to free her foot from beneath the accelerator - each time she tried she was in unbearable pain. 

In the distance Lexa could see an array of flashing lights from the various rescue services. The police and the fire departments were pushing everyone back, forming a perimeter. Miles’ line had held. Lexa looks back through the window at Raven puts her hand up to the glass, “I’m right here.” 

Climbing up the side of the Merc, Lexa grabs the handle of the car and heaves. It won’t budge. Fuck. Moving to the back-passenger door, she manages to pry it open slip inside. Lowering herself down, she settles behind Raven, “Hi,” Lexa smiled, “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better,” Raven rolls her eyes and smiles weakly; her breathing was worsening by the minute. 

Looking around, Lexa tries to find the best way to either get the girls out or the EMTs, in. When she spots Raven’s legs, she sends up a quick prayer in thanks for shock and adrenalin. Raven’s tibia has come clean through her right leg, and her ankle, which is wedged firmly behind the accelerator pedal looks to be dislocated. She is not going to thank me for this.

“L-Lex,” Raven weakly calls out, causing Lexa to lift her head and place her ear next to her mouth, “Octavia, she’s…she’s pregnant…I-I-cant bbbe the one to tell LLinc…” Raven falls silent as her eyes roll back in her head. She’s out.

Lexa looked down to the fragile and unmoving woman in the passenger side – there was no way she could get to Octavia without getting Raven out first, and there was no way she could get Raven out without untangling that leg. Banging on the window snaps her out of her reverie.

“Hey! You OK in there?”

Lexa climbs back up to the passenger side door, pushing it open enough to crawl back out and move out of the car. Turning to sound of the voices, she sees several EMTs and fire marshals staring up at her, “I’ve got two women trapped in here. Both late thirties - one is in and out of consciousness; looks like she’s sustained blunt force trauma to the head and chest, a proximal tibia break to the right leg. The other has been unconscious for 15 minutes, lacerations to the arms, chest and face…and she’s pregnant.”

“Are you a doctor?” One of the EMTs shouted up to Lexa.

“No, I’m…I’m a marine. Listen, it’s way too slippy up here and we’re running out of time. I need to ensure airway control and cervical spine immobilisation. I need one of you in here with me – bring 2 neck braces and a leg splint. We’re going to need to roll the car.”

Drowning out the shouts for equipment, man power and gurneys, Lexa slips back in to the car and repositions herself between Raven and Octavia. Feeling for Octavia’s pulse, it took a moment to find it, but it was there. She was holding on. 

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Raven was vaguely aware that pressure was being exerted on her leg. All of a sudden there was an intense pain and pop, forcing her to release the most horrifying, blood curdling scream imaginable. Her eyes shot open to see Lexa pulling her leg free from the peddle and securing it with her hands. 

Blood poured over Lexa’s hands as she became aware of a presence behind her, “OK Lexa, what have we got?”

“Raven Reyes. Blunt force trauma to the chest and open fracture on her left leg. If you hand me the splint I’ll secure her leg whilst you secure her spine.”

“OK, Raven. My name’s Brianna and we’re going to take good care of you. I’m going to secure your head and spine, and then we’ll get you some oxygen. How you doing Lexa?”

Pulling the final strap in place, Lexa risks a glance back at Raven – she’s out cold again – her skin, pale and clammy to the touch. Feeling again for a pulse, it’s considerably weaker than before, “Leg is secure. Her pulse is weak, is the team ready to move the car once Octavia is secure?” Lexa reaches for second neck brace, positioning in around Octavia’s head and neck, securing in place.

“The team are on standby and ready when you are.”

“Good! Now I want you to sit forward and wrap your arms securely around Raven’s chest; bring your knees together and place them firmly at the base of her spine. That’s it.”

Doing the same to Octavia, Lexa takes a deep breath and nods over to Brianna. Clicking her radio to life, she issues the command, “we’re in position.”

The next 5 minutes felt like the longest of Lexa’s life, and that was saying a lot. Once the car was rolled Lexa was pulled out from the car and pushed out of the way as emergency services poured in. It was a quick and flawless extrication, and all too soon Octavia and Raven were strapped to boards and pulled out from the wreck. She was distantly aware that a jacket was thrown around her shoulders as she saw Octavia being wheeled towards the first available ambulance. 

Shaking off the hands that tried to push her out of the way as Raven was placed down on a waiting gurney and raced towards an ambulance “Brianna, I’m going with her…”

Brianna saw Raven in to the back of the ambulance before stepping down to stop her, “You can’t. I need two medics back there with her and I just don’t have the room for you Lexa, I’m…”

Stepping in to her space, Lexa towered over the fiery paramedic, giving her no room to stop her, “I’m coming.”

“Alright, you’ll ride up front with me. Come on.”

Lincoln walked in to the fort that was New London’s coast guard base. After the day he’d had, he couldn’t wait to sink a few with the boys before meeting up with Octavia and their friends. Smiling at the thought, he walked the short distance in to the rec room, where a couple of guys were shooting pool and watching the news.

Seeing no sign of Roan or Bellamy, he sunk down on to one of the bar stools and turned his attention to the TV. Another accident on the interstate. Reaching over the worktop for the remote, he shakes his head and turns up the sound, before feeling someone pounce on him from behind. 

“Hey man, Bell’s just finishing up, you wanna beer?” Roan appeared from behind him, quickly moving to the fridge to grab them both a beer.

“Yeah, sure. Have you seen this?” Lincoln pointed to the TV as Roan moved around the bar. Handing a bottle to his friend, they turn their attention turned back to the TV, “it looks pretty bad down there.” 

The broadcast detailed the accident, that three people were dead at the scene, and 3 more had been rushed to hospital in, two stable, one critical. 

“I know it’s crazy – a tanker went straight through the barrier and took out like, 5 cars.”

“Hey guys, you ready?” Bellamy walked in to the room, fresh from his shower and eager to get started on the nights drinking activities.

“Yeah, sure let’s…” Suddenly there the sound of glass breaking filled the room, and both Roan and Bellamy turned to look at Lincoln, who was up off his stool and craning his neck at the TV. 

“Linc?” 

“Hey man, what’s going on?”

“Bell…is that…that looks an awful lot like Anya’s car.” Lincoln pointed to the TV screen where an aerial view on the crash site was being broadcast. The three of them turned and watched as the emergency services removed two people from a white Mercedes.

“No, that’s not…that’s not Anya’s car. She’s out of town.” 

Lincoln took out his phone from his pocket and dialled Anya’s number. It didn’t take long before the unmistakeable groan of an annoyed Anya Woods greeted him, “Brother, you’ve got 30 seconds before I board my flight, what’s up?”

“Hey Anh. I errr, was just wondering if you need a ride back from the airport or did you park up?”

Roan and Bellamy looked on anxiously waiting for confirmation that this wasn’t Anya’s car.

“Aww, aren’t you sweet. No, don’t worry about it – I’m going to meet up with you guys once I land – no point in you running out to the airport and back, I’ll take a cab…”

Lincoln’s eyes go wide and looks to Bellamy, shaking his head in disbelief as turns back to the carnage on the TV, “So you don’t have the car?”

“What? Lincoln, are you listening to me? I already told you – Raven kept the car to help Clarke move her canvas’ to the new studio. Why?”

Lincoln looked to Bellamy who was pacing with his phone to his ear. It took just one look, one look, and Lincoln knew. Bellamy was white as a sheet. Cutting the call to his sister, Lincoln looked to Bellamy for confirmation. 

"Linc I-"

"Just tell me..."

"It's Anya's car. Raven was driving but she um, she wasn't alone. Octavia was with her."


End file.
